


Get Lost, Fools.

by mercyandmagic



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Angst, Crack, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-22 22:03:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16606280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercyandmagic/pseuds/mercyandmagic
Summary: Machi’s instincts in Yorknew City are correct – Chrollo wants to recruit Kurapika. Perhaps the best road for vengeance is from within, or perhaps an enigmatic thief will steal more than Kurapika intended. Canon-divergent during Yorknew Arc. Three-shot in honor of KurokuraWeek2018.





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

**The Philosophy of Murder**

 

“Danchou wants to recruit the Chain Bastard?” Nobunaga’s eyes flash in the cold sunlight of Yorknew City. People mill about the outdoor café, completely oblivious that two wanted killers sit sipping tea in their midst. “He may have killed Uvogin.”

His voice catches. _May_. He can’t bring himself to finalize it. He can’t admit what they all know – Uvogin is dead.

“It’s just a hunch,” Machi says quickly. But Chrollo himself trusts her hunches. Like she and her feelings are valuable. He was the first one who listened to her feelings.

“Machi. It’s never ‘just a hunch’ with you.” Nobunaga scowls. “But all Danchou said was to bring him back. Have you forgotten the unspoken rule?”

_By any means necessary. Alive or dead._

“I won’t agree to this.” As he speaks, a tingle runs down his spine. Nobunaga scans the area. “We’re being watched.”

“Is it the Chain Bastard?” Machi asks coolly.

“No idea. Act calm.” Nobunaga shifts.

“I am,” Machi says, snapping her canned juice in frustration. Oh, Nobunaga, large on heart and small on self-restraint. “You’re the one forcing the issue.”

“Am I?” Nobunaga growls.

Machi stiffens. She, too, can feel their eyes, but where are they?

“Let’s start walking,” she says, quietly. Hopefully moving will soothe Nobunaga. “And then we’ll get him.”

 

* * *

 

_Get lost, fool._

Kurapika awakens with a gasp. Memories haunt his dreams.

_Get lost, fool._

And then the big man dies, pierced through the heart by Kurapika’s chains. So quickly, so painlessly, so – anticlimactically. Shouldn’t murder be more dramatic? Slower? Shouldn’t there be a swelling of will, a determination to hurt?

 _It wasn’t murder_ , he tells himself as he draws the blankets around his quaking body. _It was justice_.

His phone buzzes again. So that’s why he’s been awakened: a phone call. Not even the horror of his dreams.

He shivers and picks up the phone. “Hello?”

“Kurapika, finally!” Leorio blusters.

Dammit; he had expected Melody or perhaps Squala.

Kurapika should have checked before answering. He doesn’t want his friends seeing him like this.

Like a killer.

Leorio pauses. “Are you there?”

“I’m working.” On sleep. Kurapika fights the lump growing in his throat. _I’m a killer, Leorio_.

“Well, get _here_! _Gon and Killua have been kidnapped by the Phantom Troupe_!” Leorio howls.

“What?!” Kurapika nearly drops his phone. He scrambles out of bed.

“They were trailing them for bounties and – now they’re kidnapped!” Leorio whimpers. “We have to rescue them.”

For bounties. How very Gon and Killua. Kurapika shakes. “They’re killers, Leorio.”

“I know that,” he huffs. “You of all people know that. That’s why we have to save them.”

“Do you know where they’re hiding?”

“I traced the call, yes.”

Kurapika wonders. He wonders if he can die and take the entire troupe with him. “Then let’s go.”

He won’t let them take another friend from him, no matter the cost.

 

* * *

“How can you kill people you don’t even know and then mourn your own?” Gon shouts. He clutches Nobunaga’s hand tighter and tighter. “It makes me sick.”

Bam. Nobunaga’s arm smashes against the table.

The ninja’s eyes widen, but just as quickly as his victory, the small torturer has his sword by Gon’s neck.

Killua starts, but a razor-sharp card grazes his throat.

“That’s enough,” Hisoka says slyly, as if he has never met Killua before, as if they hadn’t survived the Hunter Exam together, as if he didn’t know Illumi at all.

As if he would kill Killua without question.

“Yes,” calls a sassy voice. “That’s enough on many levels!”

Gon gasps. Killua’s heart pounds.

Because that’s Leorio’s voice. He and Kurapika – the Kurapika Killua now suspects of killing this Uvogin – saunter into the troupe’s hideout.

“Let them go now and no one gets hurt,” Leorio blusters.

Kurapika bites his lip. Leorio’s very good at blustering, he realizes.

He will miss it.

“Who the fuck are you?” A muscular man with no eyebrows to speak of advances menacingly.

“He’s not important,” Kurapika says. “But I am.”

Kurapika surveys his enemies. A gun-toting woman in a low-cut suit. A magenta-haired tomboy. A ninja. The eyebrow-less man in a tracksuit. A giant. A mummy. A kid with a phone. A small, glasses-clad lady in a turtleneck. A man resembling more a mop than a human. Hisoka. And the tiny torturer holding Gon.

 _Who_ are _these people? And who is their leader?_

The woman with the low-cut suit raises an eyebrow, as if suspecting Kurapika already.

Kurapika activates his chains. “I’m the one you seek. Let my friends go, and I’ll go with you.”

“You!” screams the ninja. He’s restrained by the pink-haired woman, and the vacuum-wielder holds back the eyebrow-less wonder.

“Kurapika, the Chain User is _you_?” Gon cries in surprise.

“How did it not become obvious?” Killua retorts.

Hisoka watches Kurapika with narrowed eyes. Just what is this masochist planning?

“Did you kill Uvogin?” demands the ninja.

Kurapika pales. In front of Gon and Killua.

“I did,” he says simply.

The room falls silent.

The ninja screams suddenly. He lunges for him, but nen threads by the pinkette catch him.

“Stop, Nobunaga,” she commands. “I told you: Danchou wants to recruit him.”

Kurapika blanches. One, because their boss isn’t even here. He thought he was merely resigning himself to his death, but had hoped to take the boss with him.

Two, because they want to keep him? To kill indigenous tribes alongside each other like a merry band of murderers?

“What?!” rages the torturer, digging his sword deeper into Gon’s neck.

“This has gone far enough,” sighs the giant.

“I’m calling Danchou.” The kid with the phone dials a number.

“How could you, Kurapika?” Gon is stricken.

“Doesn’t matter,” Kurapika says icily. He steels himself. _Don’t talk. Not a word about my eyes_.

_It’s worth this._

Mercifully, Gon seems to understand. The kid hangs up the phone.

“What did he say, Shalnark?” asks the bespectacled woman.

“He wants him to stay here. He’ll be back from the auction shortly,” says Shalnark.

 

Kurapika sits with Leorio, across from the troupe. His chains remain activated, though not Emperor Time. Not yet.

Footsteps echo throughout the cavernous room. Kurapika doesn’t take his eyes off Gon and Killua, who are still restrained by the torturer and Hisoka,r respectively.

A man pivots before him.

Kurapika finds himself surprised at his youth. The boss is not much older than Kurapika, with raven-hair and a cross on his forehead. He wears a preposterous feathered coat, as if trying desperately to be noticed; that is the last thin Kurapika would have anticipated. Between his delicate features are enormous grey eyes that look rather like clouds.

Kurapika scowls. How dare he look anything but evil.

The man squats before him so that they are on eye-level. “So, you are the Chain Bastard.”

“His parents were married,” Leorio grumbles, drawing a chuckle from the leader and a growl from Kurapika.

“What is your name?”

“Kurapika.”

“No surname?”

“No.”

“I understand,” says the man, in a soft, sorrowful voice. “I am Chrollo Lucilfer.”

“Is that your real name?” Kurapika asks bluntly.

“It is now.” The leader smiles slightly. “Where is Uvogin?”

The man’s eyes look like rainclouds. His fists are clenched. Like he already knows.

“Buried,” Kurapika says as curtly as he can.

A tear runs down the man’s cheek, shocking Kurapika.

“He deserved better,” Chrollo Lucilfer mutters.

“He killed – he killed so many at the auction,” Kurapika protests.

“Let’s kill him, Danchou. I’ve heard enough. Though we can spare his friends. I want to recruit them,” says Nobunaga as he scrambles to his feet.

“No way!” Gon cries.

“I want to recruit _him_ ,” Chrollo says.

“I don’t,” says Hisoka, of all people.

An idea occurs to Kurapika. A way to kill them all.

“Worried I’ll give away your secret?” Kurapika turns his gaze to Hisoka.

Hisoka narrows his eyes.

“What does that mean?” Phinks demands.

“He came to me with information on you some months ago,” Kurapika says calmly.

Shalnark places a hand on Nobunaga’s shoulder.

“You’re joking,” says the mummy.

“He’s not,” Chrollo says.

“I knew not to trust him,” spits the torturer. He shoves Gon and Killua into the Giant so he can glare Hisoka down.

“Hisoka.” Chrollo looks at their newest member.

Hisoka shrugs.

 _Shrugs_.

Nobunaga leaps for him, and Shalnark scrambles after, but Chrollo has already teleported him behind them all. “We do not fight amongst each other.”\

Kurapika eyes the book in Chrollo’s hand _. Bandit’s Secret_ , it reads.

“He sold out Uvo!” cries Nobunaga.

Everyone glares at Hisoka. Hell, even Gon and Killua and Leorio glare at Hisoka.

Hisoka titters as his bloodlust swells. Well, this is an interesting opportunity if there ever was one. “Oops.”

“Chrollo, what do you want to do?” The pinkette looks ready to murder Hisoka. She looks like she’d enjoy it.

Kurapika gulps. He has faith Hisoka will escape. Maybe kill a few members along the way. Or at least injure them.

“Let him go,” Chrollo says.

Kurapika stiffens.

“You’re not going to fight me?” Hisoka wilts. He turns grey.

“We don’t fight each other.”

Hisoka whips off his shirt.

“Oh God, no,” the pinkette groans.

He then rips the skin off his back, taking the tattooed spider marked _4_ with it. “ _Am_ I?”

Chrollo looks almost sad. “I am not going to give you what you want. You were a real troupe member to me. So, no. I have no interest in fighting you.”

“What if l kill them.” Hisoka points to Shalnark and the mop-man.

“I’d like to see you try,” Feitan growls.

“Boss, please let me kill him,” Nobunaga begs.

Chrollo’s eyes flicker with – it can’t be concern for Nobunaga’s safety. Kurapika won’t believe it.

“You won’t.” Chrollo waves his hand, and Hisoka disappears.

“Why aren’t you bloodthirsty?” Kurapika bursts out. “You certainly were at the auction. What _are_ you?”

Chrollo meets his gaze, then glances away. “The Spider.”

He raises his voice, addressing the entire troupe. “We should leave tonight. With Hisoka out, it’s too dangerous to stay.”

“And my friends?” Kurapika asks anxiously.

“They can go.”

“But I wanted to recruit them,” Nobunaga says.

“Never!” Gon yells.

“He doesn’t exactly sound willing,” Chrollo says, offering Gon a wry smile.

“Why? Why do you do it? Why do you kill people you don’t even know?” Gon demands as he and Killua break their bonds.

Chrollo stares at Gon, wordless.

Kurapika’s heart slows.

“Why?” Chrollo asks softly. “Why? Is it because I don’t know them?”

He turns his head up, to the broken skylight two stories above them. It casts a shadow across his moonlit face. “No, that’s not it. I don’t – I wonder – to answer this question – is it the key to finding myself?”

Kurapika watches him with his mouth open. No one else in the troupe seems fazed.

Who _is_ this philosophical mass murderer?

“Let them go,” Chrollo orders, but Gon, Killua, and Leorio step forward instead of away.

“We won’t leave without Kurapika.”

“Kurapika?” Chrollo offers him his hand. “See if we are the murderers you think us to be.”

“I’m sorry,” Kurapika says to his friends. He takes Chrollo’s hand.

Kurapika wonders.

These people don’t care about Uvogin. They don’t care about anyone. They’re barely human.

Perhaps he can kill them from the inside out.

 

As for Chrollo, however, he is unsure why Neon’s fortune floats in his head.

 

_The calendar loses a precious component_

_The remaining months gather to mourn_

_The mourners will play his melody_

_As the eleventh moon slowly rises_

_The chrysanthemum withers and falls_

_To lie on the ground besides Bloody Scarlet Eyes_

_But you will remain supreme_

_Even though you will grow more limbs_

_Enjoy the Interlude_

_Seek out new allies_

_East is the direction to go._

_You will find one who loves you._

 


	2. Holier Than Thou

**Chapter Two**

**Holier Than Thou**

"Aren't you going to ask me something?" Kurapika asks bitterly, shifting in his seat on the airship Pakunoda has managed to commandeer. They fly east, towards the blinding sunrise.

"Like what?" asks Kortopi from behind his wall of hair. Kurapika prefers the name Mop-Man.

"Like why he killed Uvogin!" shouts Nobunaga.

"Nobu, we're in a closed space. Calm yourself," Franklin says.

"Hisoka hired him. Right?" Shizuku blinks at Kurapika.

She seems so innocent.

"I'm not an assassin." Kurapika looks at his hands. He isn't, right? He's not like the Zoldycks. "There's…plenty of stories about the people you've massacred. My friends were among them. I wanted to keep you from hurting others."

"I see." Pakunoda frowns.

This woman unnerves him more than anyone else. One touch, one use of her power, and he's done for. Feitan will remove his eyes and teeth and probably skin.

He's not sure why Chrollo hasn't ordered her to interrogate him yet.

He's not sure why Chrollo isn't giving orders, period. Isn't he a tyrannical thief with no regard for humanity?

"We don't only kill," Shalnark says merrily, as if they were discussing the weather, as if their Danchou is his older brother. "You'll see."

"Where are we going?" Bonolenov asks.

 _Are we there yet_? Kurapika mimics in his head. Bono bears the classic holes of the Gyunyandond people. How could someone from a fellow a disenfranchised tribe kill the Kurtas?

"Meteor City," says Chrollo.

 _Finally speaking again, I see_ , Kurapika thinks.

"Rumor is a Chimera Ant has ousted the Council of Elders."

"Good riddance," says Phinks, ever obnoxious.

"A Chimera Ant?" Machi asks slowly. Kurapika hates her, because he almost likes her, and she's his enemy.

"Yes. An ant that takes on the likeness of whatever it eats," Chrollo explains.

"In what dusty encyclopedia did you read that?" Shalnark teases.

Chrollo smiles, though his tone remains grim. "It seems they've eaten humans. And are building an army of the inhabitants of Meteor City."

Feitan sucks in his breath. He grips his sword.

"I take it back," mutters Phinks.

Kurapika's eyes widen. Just slightly.

_Don't tell me you all actually …_

_…_

_…_ _care_.

* * *

"Hisoka, you had to know this was a possibility," Illumi says, ever nonchalant. He sips his coffee, which he has ordered for himself and Kalluto at this seedy Yorknew Bar.

Hisoka, meanwhile, is chugging beer.

"I wasn't counting on that angel of self-righteous indignation sacrificing himself," Hisoka says. "He usually minimizes risks."

"He sought out the Phantom Troupe," Illumi replies. "I don't think he minimizes risk."

"Maybe I should fight him, too," Hisoka murmurs with an eerie grin. He moans. "No. Only Chrollo will do."

Is it Hisoka's imagination, or do Illumi's dark eyes flicker?

"You sound like Milluki obsessing over the latest collectible," Kalluto says.

"Chrollo is my favorite toy," Hisoka says. "Sounds apt. I like this brother, Illumi."

"Gon is not your favorite toy?" Illumi would be happy if Gon died. Then he could have Killua back. Then Killua's love wouldn't be distracted from him.

"I don't think you can kill Chrollo. Not even Dad would," says Kalluto.

"I spoke to soon. I don't like you, kid." Hisoka snorts. His voice rises. "I can kill him and I will. He – "

Illumi glares at him.  _If you say he turns you on, I will castrate you_.

Hisoka coughs. "He excites me so much, Illumi."

Illumi is appreciative for Hisoka's self-restraint in the presence of Kalluto. That's not a feeling he has often.

"I want to join the Troupe," Kalluto adds.

"What?" Both Hisoka and Illumi turn to stare at the kid.

"Between you, Killua, and this one, this one might actually be the most fucked up." Hisoka rubs his eyes.

"You haven't met Alluka or Milluki yet." Kalluto smirks.

Illumi pales at the mention of Alluka. "Kalluto, explain yourself?"

"There's an extra space, right? Because you and Uvogin are gone." Kalluto nods. "It will teach me assassin skills, Illu."

"You're not joining," snaps Illumi.

"Aw, afraid of abandonment?" Hisoka teases.

"It's not good for assassins," Illumi says automatically.

"How so?" Kalluto challenges.

Illumi blinks. "Because it's not."

_Don't leave me alone._

"You're such a killjoy, Illumi." Kalluto chugs his coffee and storms out of the bar.

"Let him go. He'll be back," says Illumi, to Hisoka's unease.

Because an hour later, Kalluto still hasn't come back.

* * *

Kurapika is stunned by Meteor City. For such a beautiful name, Meteor City is hideous. The putrid odor of rot infects his nostrils. The humid air sticks to him like a disease.

Scrawny children run through heaps of rubbish.

"Give me your stuff!"

Kurapika leaps in surprise at the gaunt boy pointing a rusted screwdriver at him.

"We'll give you something better," says Franklin from behind Kurapika.

An apple. The kid looks like he's about to cry.

"I don't need your handouts."

"You do," Kurapika says.

"No!" he runs off, and Kurapika is held back by Machi.

"He was probably trying to score points with his friends by fighting us. We're rather well-known here."

"But he needs food," Kurapika says.

"Yes," says Feitan. "Welcome to Meteor City."

Bonolenov steps closer to Kurapika. "It took me a while to get used to this place, too, Kurapika. Not the fields and forests of our childhood, eh?"

Kurapika gapes at him, but Bonolenov has already moved away.

* * *

"Milluki, I need your help," Killua snaps into the phone. Leorio, Gon, and a friend of Kurapika's named Melody pace inside their cramped hotel room.

"Me?" Milluki's disbelief is palpable.

"It's a long story." Killua sighs. "My friend Kurapika just joined the Phantom Troupe, but the person he kicked out is furious and wants revenge, and  _that_  person has hired Illumi and Kalluto!"

"Okay," Milluki says slowly, trying to follow.

"The point is, I need you to help me track Illumi so my friends and I can intercept and stop them."

"What makes you think I can track them?" Milluki asks, stuffing a cookie into his mouth. Sugar makes him feel happy. Hopeful. When he was younger, Mother wanted him to be "sweet like Illumi," so he forced himself to eat sugar and more sugar because he thought that would make his personality sweet.

"You sound suspicious," Killua says sharply.

"I am. Who told you about the needle?"

Killua freezes. Gon and Leorio turn their worried gazes to him. "What needle?"

"Oh dear," says Milluki. "Forget it!"

"No." Killua's anger and fear builds. " _What needle_ , Milluki?!"

* * *

A hall of moaning ants, paralyzed from fear, tears across Kurapika's expectations. Victims, former humans turned into monsters.

And by the door stands a green chimera guard, with long golden fags and thin limbs. A tuft of black hair sits on its exoskull.

The entire crowd, from the victims to the guard, frightens Kurapika – and he finds himself more frightened because he's frightened. Kurtas look different, too – why should he judge ants?

"Come over here, and I'll teach you babies how to fight," scoffs the ant.

"Will you?" Chrollo asks calmly.

"Don't acknowledge a brat like him," Kurapika suggests. To his surprise, Chrollo nods.

The ant lunges for Kurapika, who narrowly dodges.

"Why aren't you taking on the queen, Chrollo?" Kurapika demands.

"Feitan can handle himself." Chrollo teleports the ant towards Kurapika.

"You don't trust me to fight alone." Kurapika isn't using his chains; he can't, after all. The ant is not a troupe member. He merely summons them, without using a single link.

"Would you?" Chrollo looks away, drawing the ant closer to him. "You may be a member of the Spiders, but not yet. You killed my friend."

He teleports the ant again, but Kurapika misses with his chains, as if he wasn't even trying. Chrollo's gnawing suspicions grow.

 _My friend_ …

Kurapika winces. "I did not think a leader of infamous thieves would be so sentimental."

"Prepare to encounter more surprises, then." Chrollo turns to the crowd of moaning, miserable ants. Former citizens of Meteor City. No, still citizens.

Chrollo hates to use multiple abilities in a fight, but right now, it may be necessary.

"Order Stamp," he says, looking towards them.

"What are you doing?" Kurapika's voice rises.

"Think of these ants as puppets. They can fight for us."

There it is. Kurapika is grateful for his contacts, because his true irises are bright scarlet right now.

 _You may look human, Lucilfer, but you too are a monster_.

"No, I have a better idea."

"Stealth Dolphin." Kurapika conjures a small dolphin, to Chrollo's amazement. The dolphin flies towards the ant and pricks it before it has a chance to react.

"What?!" The ant thrashes about.

Stealth Dolphin returns with a syringe of aura for Kurapika.

"He borrows abilities," Kurapika explains.

"Like my book," Chrollo holds up Bandit's Secret.

"No, I only borrow. I can return the hatsu any time I wish," Kurapika replies, injecting himself with the needle.

"Ah, so you're holier?" Chrollo asks, darkly amused.

"I didn't say that!" Kurapika conjures a hatsu whip and sends the ant sprawling.

Chrollo conjures Fun, Fun Cloth and shrinks the ant down to true ant size.

He tosses it on the floor and crushes it beneath his heel.

Kurapika looks grave.

 _Why do you kill people who have nothing to do with you_? His friend's voice echoes in Chrollo's mind.

But it's different right now. This is his city. The ants have very much to do with him.

"Let's find Feitan," Chrollo says.

"Wait." Kurapika approaches a sobbing man-dog.

"Please," begs the man, "kill me. I'm a  _freak_."

As Chrollo watches, Kurapika seizes the man's hand. "A long time ago, I was branded a freak, too, sir."

"You look just fine!"

"I disguise myself. People wanted to kill me for my looks. And then they killed all the freaks like me and I was the only one left." Kurapika's voice catches.

Chrollo feels very, very unsettled. No wonder Kurapika would respond so violently to the deaths at the auction, then. Memories, and suspicions, claw his mind.

Kurapika points to a small girl who appears to be half bat. "Doesn't she matter?"

The dog-man hesitates.

"Then you do, too. If one person matters, everyone does." Kurapika wipes his eyes. "Rebuild your life. Don't every give up. Please."

"I never had one," says the man.

"Then make one," says Chrollo, and Kurapika begrudgingly notices how the man brightens merely being addressed by a Phantom Troupe member.

These thieves and murderers truly are hope to Meteor City.

Kurapika rises to his feet. "Are you gonna be okay?"

The man nods, and Kurapika feels Chrollo's hand on his shoulder.

"You were disappointed that I killed the ant," Chrollo says as they pass through the door, on their way to Feitan.

"It had to die. But I…pitied it."

"But you did not pity Uvogin." Chrollo hesitates. "What were his last words?"

"He killed my friends. Their names were Baise, Ivenkov, Shachomono." Kurapika inhales. "I'll never know their last words."

"So lives are more valuable when you know them?" Chrollo tilts his head. "I wish you had joined us sooner, then, and known Uvogin."

"No…just more valuable to me." Kurapika hangs his head. Chrollo stops walking – because he must have that much faith in Feitan, to take the time – and stares at him.

"Welcome to the Troupe, from one freak to another," says Chrollo quietly, watching every tic and squirm on the newcomer's face.

He can't restrain an impish grin. "…But if you wanted to hate me, you should not care if I damn myself with my actions, dear Kurapika."

"Screw you!" Kurapika exclaims, and to their surprise, both men laugh.


	3. Some Infinities

C **hapter Three**

**Some Infinities**

"Shizuku, put a shirt on." Phinks' voice is gruff, but he quickly removes his to hand it to the small woman.

"Thanks,' she says quickly, though the small spider is drowning in the fabric.

Kurapika grabs his belt and hands it to her.

"Thank you, Kurapika," she says, eyes wide behind her glasses.

"You had me worried," Machi says, shoving Feitan.

"That your own fault," he retorts in that odd dialect. The product of no education, Chrollo told Kurapika.

As Feitan and Machi steal glares at each other that contain so much more, Kurapika's heart sinks further and further. Like the sun behind them.

"Let's find somewhere to sleep tonight," grumbles Nobunaga.

"We'll need guards," Pakunoda says as they enter a rickety, abandoned home through what was once a door but is now just collapsing timbers. "We can switch every hour."

"Or what?" Kurapika asks slowly.

Kortopi draws a hand across his throat. Kurapika wonders if that is how they killed his family.

"New person first," Phinks adds, sticking Kurapika with a glower.

"I don't trust him!" Nobunaga shakes his head.

"It's simple. I'll stay up with him. Guarding both," says Chrollo.

"Very well." Kurapika in the doorframe by the door as various troupe members collapse on the dirt floor. No blankets. No pillows, or even the likeness thereof.

"It's hard to adjust to how people outside of Meteor City sleep," explains Shalnark, as cheerful as ever.

Kurapika nods. His throat pinches. Behind him, Machi and Feitan lie on opposite sides of the room, as if protesting any feelings between each other.

"You've noticed too," says a wry voice. Chrollo, now sliding next to him.

Kurapika shrugs. "How does it make you feel?"

"Happy," Chrollo says.

"Does much make you happy?"

"No." Chrollo inhales as he pulls a worn book out of his pocket, perfect to read by moonlight. The only book he ever reads in Meteor City, because it's the first one he ever read. His mother gave it to him. "Like you, I suppose."

Kurapika eyes him.

"It's a mathematical proof," Chrollo says suddenly.

"Huh?" Kurapika glances over.

"Some infinities are larger than other infinities." Chrollo turns a page. "If you wanted to argue the point back in the palace, you could tie that to how some lives may be more valuable. Like your friends'."

"Maybe some lives are more infinite to me," says Kurapika slowly, "but all are infinite."

"And infinitely valuable?" Chrollo asks, flipping past a boring section on geometry.

"Yes."

"Like your tribe. They were a small infinity to the world, no? But a large infinity to you." Chrollo doesn't look at Kurapika.

"I … I mean – your troupe is the same," Kurapika says lamely. "An infinity. Like Meteor City, even."

"Perhaps," says Chrollo, "they are merely puppets from the same origin as I."

"Do you think yourself a puppet?"

"Of fate, perhaps." Philosopher whose thoughts are in Chrollo's hand wrote about fate. He won't stop believing in it. Because it's the first thing he ever believed.

"Do you not decide to kill?" Kurapika asks sharply. "Or is it that you would rather attribute to fate what is actually free will, lest you implicate yourself?"

"You talk a self-righteous game for a murderer, Kurapika. Would your family be proud of what you've become?" Chrollo asks slowly.

"Would yours?"

"I never had one. My mother died when I was very young." Chrollo frowns. "I'd like to think no. Because that would make her a good mother, to disapprove of a thieving son. But I don't know."

Kurapika feels an unexpected wave of pity.

"Mine would not approve," he admits. "You don't know what I've done."

"Well," says Chrollo, "You know some of what I've done, but not all of it."

Kurapika waits.

And Chrollo wants to tell.

* * *

"I found you, Kurapika!" A voice rings through the night.

Kurapika and Chrollo turn to the door.

A kid.

"The fuck?" mumbles Phinks from behind them.

"You," Kurapika says in surprise.

"I'm Kalluto Zoldyck. I want to join your troupe." A kimono-clad boy holds out a nen-coated paper fan.

"Of the assassins?" Chrollo's brain whirs. A chance to avenge Troupe Member 8, by training Silva Zoldyck's son.

"The hell are you?" Feitan rubs sleep out of his eyes.

"I'm Kalluto." The kid shoots papers towards him.

Machi knocks Feitan out of the way. "Something tells me that's dangerous, kid."

"I'm not just a kid," Kalluto argues.

"It's true," says Kurapika. "I know his brother. The one you captured."

Kalluto looks around eagerly. "Please let me join. I can tell you there's a problem."

"What problem?" asks Shalnark.

"Hisoka hired my brother Illumi. He wants to fight you, Mr. Chrollo." Kalluto nibbles his lip. "I'll help you stop them if you let me join. And don't kill Illumi."

"Does Hisoka know where we are?" Bonolenov asks.

"He's Hisoka," Kurapika says dryly, prompting a chuckle from Pakunoda.

"All the more reason to keep watch. We can't leave right now. You're lucky you weren't killed in Meteor City at night, Kalluto." Chrollo extends a hand. "Sleep here tonight."

Kalluto shakes his hand eagerly.

Kurapika had expected Chrollo to look down on a brat like Kalluto; instead, he sees only generosity.

"Have you eaten anything?" Machi asks crossly, guiding Kalluto inside. "Fei, help feed the kid. He looks like your brother or something."

* * *

"You don't like the Zoldycks," Kurapika observes once the place is quiet again.

"I have nothing against them, save Silva. He killed the member Shizuku replaced." Chrollo paused.

Kurapika hesitates.

"Tybalt was a sneaky child. He had gotten himself in trouble with the mafia. I arrived as fast as I could, to duel Silva instead." Chrollo laughs, painfully. "I lost, and he died, and there was nothing I could do. He was just thirteen."

"I'm sorry," Kurapika says, stunned.

"So am I." Chrollo shakes his head. "We found him starving in a dump in Lukso Province."

Kurapika stiffens. He forgets to breathe.

So Tybalt would have been…around the Kurtas. Nearby.

"He stole a bounty we had just taken." Chrollo sighs. "I was admiring the treasure, and then they just vanished! All because of that little brat."

"Why didn't you just admire your own eyes?" Kurapika demands in a thin voice.

He should hate him right now. But he doesn't. How can the demise of his people – genocide – have led to Chrollo bonding with a kid? It's disgusting, this confusing world.

"Hmm?" Chrollo blinks.

"Yours are different."

"Hah, really?" Chrollo smiles.

His eyes really are lovely. Kurapika leans closer, scrutinizing them.

"What are you looking at?"

"Your eyes," says Kurapika. "Like thunderclouds."

"No lightning, though," Chrollo says with a smirk. He swallows. "I always hated them for their lack of color. Vain of me, isn't it?"

Kurapika guffaws. "You have a tattoo on your forehead and hair gelled within an inch of its life. Am I supposed to be surprised?"

"At least my hair isn't in my face, Kurapika," Chrollo says pointedly.

Kurapika reaches over – over to his enemy – and rustles several dark strands free. "Now they are."

Chrollo huffs.

"What color eyes did you want?" Kurapika hears himself ask.

"Scarlet."

Kurapika inhales. He was not expecting Chrollo to bring this up.

"You've heard of the Kurta clan, no doubt?" Chrollo looks straight ahead. "The Spiders are responsible for their extinction."

"And the surplus of eyes on the black market," Kurapika says, fighting to remain calm.

"That wasn't good planning on our part."

"So why?" Kurapika's voice is reedy.

Chrollo glances towards him. "I don't know. No, maybe I do." He looks to the sky. "I enjoyed the power. I loved the treasure. A kid from Meteor City holding anything beautiful at all, much less dozens of the Seven Wonders of the World in his hands, was impossible."

"But the people," Kurapika says.

"Many were children." Chrollo swallows. "Do you hate me for that?"

Kurapika is silent.

"Makes the auction look moral, I suppose."

"Are you sorry?" Kurapika isn't sure why he's even asking.

"To whom? There's no atoning, Kurapika. They're all gone. I can't apologize to anyone. Not even the parents we kept last as we tortured their kids, to make their eyes as red as possible." Chrollo can picture every sight, but he cannot hear the screams. He's never remembered the screams.

Perhaps that makes him inhuman.

"I am very, very upset," Kurapika manages.

"Perhaps," says Chrollo, "you should be. I will not tell you how to feel."

"How do you feel?" Kurapika bursts out. "Let yourself feel. And then tell me what those feelings are!"

"I'm numb. I'm appalled at myself. I don't know why I did it – or perhaps I do. Is greed and power enough of a motivator? How superficial. At least the auction fucked over the mafia, who deserve it." Chrollo looks aside. "I am a damned man, and I won't say I don't deserve it. The only ones I've ever loved at the Spiders."

"Is that because you are too afraid to love more?" Kurapika can't stop. "Afraid of losing. Afraid of losing beauty, so you'll kill to maintain it. Afraid of losing power, so you'll torture and steal others'. Afraid of friendships and families, afraid that people are anything but replaceable, because the gravity of your actions and every moment in Meteor City and the world at large is then of infinite value?"

Chrollo stares at him, mouth slightly ajar.

"I'm right, aren't I?" Kurapika wants to be free. He wants to tell. He reaches forward, grabbing the ends of Chrollo's raven hair in between his fingertips. Those swirling grey eyes pore into his masked black ones.

If they weren't disguised, they would be scarlet.

To Kurapika's horror, his body gives another response. And the man's lips are very, very close to his.

"You can atone," Kurapika whispers instead. He lifts a hand towards his eyes.

And a needle flies into his eye.

* * *

Chrollo whistles. Maybe. Kurapika isn't sure.

What he is sure of is that he's gagging on blood from a second needle in his throat, and Chrollo's arms are the only thing keeping him upright.

He hit his head, he thinks. Hard. On the splintering doorframe.

And then his eyes focus. On a black contact lying right beneath his feet.

Kurapika looks upward, at Chrollo, who looks entirely unsurprised at what surely must be a Scarlet Eye staring back at him.

"What the –" Machi's threads haul Kurapika away.

"He's a Kurta?" yells Phinks.

"Fuck you, Hisoka!" Nobunaga screams.

"It was no secret, Phinnks," says Pakunoda, grabbing his arms. "Machi, I've got him. You go help Danchou."

* * *

"Would you like to fight to the death?" Chrollo seethes.

"Sure," Hisoka says happily.

"Not you. Illumi." Chrollo smirks at Hisoka's indignation. He wouldn't, for Kalluto's sake. But it is fun to annoy Hisoka.

"No," says Illumi. "Pay me now, Hisoka."

"Illumi, stop!" begs Kalluto.

"I put a tracker on you, you know," Illumi says.

"What?" Kalluto looks horrified. He turns to Chrollo, desperate. "I'm sorry!"

"We don't blame you," Nobunaga replies, shocking the child.

"All of you,  _stop_  it!" Killua, Gon, Leorio, and two people Chrollo has never seen before appear. A chubby young man, and little girl with an eerie smile.

Just, appear.

Like nen he's never seen.

"What is he doing out?" Illumi yelps.

"I freed our sister," says the chubby one. "Alluka, this is the Phantom Troupe."

She waves. Phinks, unsure what the hell is even happening, waves back.

"And she took out my needle," adds Killua, glaring at Illumi.

"Dad made him put the needle in," says Alluka. "Dad's very mean to him and Milluki." She pauses. "He doesn't care about me and Kalluto."

"Silva," Chrollo mutters. "If you want to beat someone up, Hisoka, why don't you chase after him?"

"Because he's not as sexy," Hisoka replies.

"You mean Illumi would be mad at you?" Leorio asks. "Because I'm not really sure what's going on in that relationship, but it's not straight."

Illumi stutters.

"Illumi never misses with his needles," Killua adds, sweetly.

Illumi is now bright red. Killua likes him! Killua thinks highly of him!

"You missed because you want Hisoka to stop and be your friend," Gon declares.

"Something like that," Killua says. "Isn't that right, Illumi?"

"No," Hisoka says, at the same time Illumi says, "yes."

"Hisoka, you just want to feel adrenaline because it's the only time you feel alive," says Chrollo. "I've figured you out."

"But not yourself," Hisoka purrs.

"No, but I'm starting to." Chrollo glances behind him, to where Shalnark and Pakunoda are extracting a needle – and a contact lens – from Kurapika's eye.

"Alluka, Kurapika might lose his vision," says Killua.

"'Kay." The sweet little girl's eyes turn black. "Show me his hand."

Chrollo gapes at her as Gon and Killua lead her inside.

"She's pretty powerful," says Milluki.

"Stop distracting me," Hisoka snaps.

"No," says a sweet-voiced woman. She holds up a flute.

* * *

The next thing Hisoka and Illumi know, they are on the floor of the hut, tied together. Relaxed for Hisoka, and relaxed, which means depressed, for Illumi.

"I should die," says Illumi sadly. "I can fight Chrollo."

"Don't you dare."  _Fuck it._  Hisoka uses bungee gum to draw his lips to his own. "First of all, that's my job. Second of all, you taste good."

* * *

Kurapika lies on the dirt floor, dimly aware that Gon, Leorio, and Killua are here to rescue him. And Melody. Oh, and Illumi Zoldyck is in love with Hisoka.

And that Chrollo knows who he is.

With a burst of courage, he opens his eyes. He gasps when the first thing he sees is Chrollo staring down at him.

And his red, red eyes.

Kurapika draws back. "How long have you known?"

"Since the palace. I was waiting for you to show them to me. And provoking you, if I'm honest." Chrollo pauses. "Maybe I am waiting to deserve them."

Kurapika closes his eyes. When he opens them, they flame such scarlet that they sear Chrollo's soul.

"I'd say I'm sorry," Chrollo says, drawing his arms closer to himself, "but I fear that is inadequate."

"It is," Kurapika says softly, and Chrollo finds himself relieved to hear his voice.

"Did you mean it? When you said I could atone?"

"Yes." Kurapika draws in a shuddery breath. "It hurts, Chrollo – I can't call you Danchou. But yes, I meant it."

"I like how you say my name," Chrollo confesses.

"Say mine," Kurapika demands suddenly.

"Kurapika." Chrollo stares at him. "Kurapika of the Kurta Clan."

"Chrollo Lucilfer, of Meteor City," says Kurapika. "Let's atone, together."

"I have so much more to do than you," Chrollo says dryly.

"I don't care." Kurapika smiles tearfully. "By the way."

"'Get lost, fool.' Those were Uvogin's words." Kurapika's eyes well.

Chrollo's hands reach for the cross on Kurapika's Holy Chain. A promise of redemption, of resurrection. Of forgiveness, even.

Kurapika holds it forth. And as Chrollo's fingers seize it, Kurapika feels as though his own heart is pierced. By a chain linking them both, for now until infinity.

"I think," says Chrollo, "we are both."

_"_ _Whoever seeks to save their life will lose it,_

_but whoever loses their life will find it."_

_–_ _Luke 17:33_

**So I'd like to apologize for the bare-bones nature of this story. TBH grad school is kicking my ass. But I figured some writing for KurokuraWeek2018 was better than none.**

**Happy Kurokura!!!**


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